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| photo mine |
Or maybe the better term would be Friendsick.
Seven weeks ago, I traveled to my home state to see one of my best friends. I have always had a very tumultuous relationship with Kentucky, not really appreciating the beauty that is to be found there.
I think that with age comes understanding and appreciation. As I traveled north towards Paris, I passed places that I remembered from my childhood.
I was born in Bowling Green, grew up around Western Kentucky University, and lived in Smiths Grove while I was in high school. All of these are places you pass as you head the direction I was. I remember spending many days on WKU's campus for academic and music competitions, ruing the fact that they are called the Hilltoppers for a reason.
I passed the Corvette museum, where members of my high school choir and I sang Christmas carols the first year it was open. The museum has expanded, I saw. As I passed the Corvette plant, I fondly remember visiting the plant as a child, a requisite field trip for all local elementary school students.
The entire drive was full of beautiful views and fond memories. While not all of my life there was great, it was as though a filter had been inserted that was only letting through the great things I remembered.
Some of my greatest memories in college were visits to Paris with Rachel. I remember passing the Castle (I am sure it has some other wonderful name that I don't know). I loved (and still do) seeing the walls that were built by Irish masons that run the length of the highway headed to Rachel's house.
Beyond the places that I miss is the conversation. Even though I hadn't seen her in over seven years, we stepped right back into conversation like we had just seen each other last week. We have weathered storms together, celebrated together, cried together, and laughed together. With my mother, Rachel is one of only two people who get me.
And I get her. I am lucky to know the Rachel that most other people never meet. She is brave and wonderful, strong and silly.
I miss her. It has only been seven weeks, but it feels like another seven years have passed. I wish there were some way to combine our homes and remove the distance between them.
I didn't leave Paris and Rachel the way I arrived. I walked away with more great memories, and a couple of great food finds. I can now make brown butter rice crispy treats (which have been a big hit at work and taught me why other rice crispy treats just aren't great...it's the butter!).
Today, I sent text messages to Rachel for the ingredients for the second. I can now make it as well (see photo above). It brought me right back to that kitchen in Paris, having conversation over Greek salad, tuna, and orzo salad.
We have already decided that seven years between visits is SO not going to happen again. Until we can work that out, I will rely on my memories and recipes to ease the friendsickness.
And lots of text messages.
